Don't Leave Me!
by SakuraHawke
Summary: britain is just getting over the pain of losing america during the revolution. what happens during their first encounter after the horrible event? possible fruk? france wishes...


_**so, here is my first fanfiction for all u awesome people ^^ there is slight yaoi if u look at it the wrong way, but really nothing. the pairing is supposed to be usuk, but fruk is also an option Dx plz, read & review **_

The time is directly after the Revolutionary War. At this time Great Britain is…sulking…

"I should have known. Even my kid brother doesn't want to be around me," muttered the depressed nation. He gave off a heavy sigh.

"Ah, cher. But you will always have me!" France called from the kitchen counter. This statement made England give off a full on moan. "No?" France looked over to the corner where a giant, green, blanket covered the once proud nation. "This is ridicules," he muttered under his breath.

He stood up and began to walk toward the heap of cloth. As he sat down, the bundled blanket pressed itself closer to the corner.

"Look, you can't sulk like this after every time you lose!" France stated, trying to sound reassuring. He then put his arm around the bundle and began rocking back and forth. This made the bundle fall over into France's lap. Now, you can see his yellowish-blonde hair, caterpillar eyebrows, and jade green eyes that were very close to succumbing to tears.

France swept the extra hair off of England's face, which was very firm from trying not to cry. Finally, England said, "It's not because I lost," His eyes went to the corner. "I just never thought my little brother would ever go against me like that. Never had I-" He then broke off as the tears started to flow down his face.

"Ah, well see… We are all birds. One day we have to leave the nest, no? I don't think he ever _wanted_ to leave you in the fashion that he did. Perfectly out of taste, if you ask me,"

As England began to control himself, he sat up. "Yeah, yeah. Freedom this! Freedom that! All I ever hear about is this bloody freedom!" He turned on France. "I never would have had this fight if that bloody, hamburger-stuffing-" And thus, he started to break down again.

France swept England into his arms, where England cried all over France's thin, cotton shirt. Rubbing England's back, France said, "There is a funny thing about birds… They have a tendency to return to where they first hatched at. No matter how many times they have to fly south for the winter, they always come back," He stroked England's head softly. "You'll see, he'll come back,"

Slowly, England calmed down. Backing away, he looked into France's blue eyes.

He felt a certain urge…

People around England's house, at the time, will always wonder

why France left that day with a huge, red mark on his right cheek.

"That frog face! Trying to tell _me_ how to feel, the bloody bastard! Comparing humans to birds, how absurd! How does that make any bloody sense?" England then promptly charged up the stairs to sleep the rest of the day away.

…One Week Later…

The United States of America, otherwise known as the US or just America, was walking down the street with a huge bouquet of roses. He was going to go met some of the other countries today, and was feeling a tad nervous. He stopped when he noticed he was passing England's house.

"Huh, been awhile since I've talked to him. Wonder if he's in,"

So, he went up to the door and rang to doorbell. He had plenty time to kill. And he waited. And he waited. Looking around through the windows on either side, he could see lights on down the hall. What was taking him?

He then heard a series of thumping sound coming from the stairs directly in front of the door. America jiggled the door knob to see it was open. He flung the door open. "Britain?" He looked down to see Britain cupping his foot, wincing with pain.

"America?" England looked up at his kid brother. "Never thought I'd see you again," He smiled, but then winced from the pain.

America then knelt down to look at England's foot. He placed the flowers on the floor to take hold of the foot. England's eyes stayed on America as he checked the injured foot. "Looks like a sprain, might want to stay off this for a while, kay?" he stated. Gently, he rubbed the ankle. England winced, but let him continue.

"You… Aren't going to stay, are you?" England asked as his pain subsided somewhat.

"What? Nah, I gotta go met some people later on," He nodded at the flowers.

"Oh, so you just came here to taunt me, did you?" America let go of England's foot.

"What? No, I was passing by, so I thought I should drop in. Somethin' wrong with that?" He looked at England's face. He didn't look well. As England didn't reply, America became nervous. He picked up the flowers.

"You leaving, so soon?" England asked.

America shook his head. "No, I just wanted to put this up," He explained as he put them on a nearby side table. He's gaze went back to England. "I got a half-hour before I gotta start running to make it. Let's get you off the floor,"

Then he picked England up as if he were nothing at all. Up the stairs, down the corridors, and through the door they went to England's room. America laid England down, and grabbed a hand full of pillows to go under England's foot.

"Promise me your gonna be more careful next time, kay bro?" He asked as he piled the pillows under the ankle.

"Uh, yeah. Sure,"

"I'm gonna go get ya something to drink. Anything in particular?" England's eyes widened.

"Don't leave me!" he shouted. He looked devastated.

"Dude, I'm just gonna go down stairs! I'll be right back,"

"When will be the next time you visit?"

"I don't know! Next week, maybe? Why are you so hyped?" Oh! Ouch. America remembers how he had last left England. He found that he was playing on England's last nerve as he saw his eyes start to fill. "You know what? Fine. No water. No tea. No shitty tastin' scones. I'll just sit over here," he stated as he sat next to England on the bed. England seemed to relax some.

As England wiped his face some, America reclined. "Look, I'm not abandoning you. You just get so clingy sometimes," He looked at England, who was snuggling into the blankets.

"Hey, America,"

"Yeah,"

"My scones do _not_ taste like shit,"

"Of course they do," America looked over at England's peaceful face. "I'll never completely abandon you, Britain. Never," he whispered as he cleared loss hair from his face. "Sweet dreams, big brother,"

America left, but not before he took a couple roses out of his bouquet for England.

**_hello, again! yep, that's the end ^^ i honestly don't know how england's house ended up_**

**_to be on the way to _****_whoever america was going to see, so don't ask . _**


End file.
